Page 72 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
“I wouldn’t call what you did trying.”
I shook a finger by his chin. “Stop saying that. I wanted to kill you, only you turned out to be stronger and trickier than me.”
“You could have killed me but didn’t because, deep down, you feel it.”
“Feel what?”
He grabbed me around the waist and tugged me close. “Feel the awareness that sizzles between us.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. Hopefully he didn’t hear the erratic, rapid stutter of my heart.
“From the moment we met, I’ve wanted to taste your mouth.” His gaze went to it.
“We shouldn’t,” I whispered through dry lips.
“Why not?”
As I stared at him, I tried to think of a reason. Came up with none because I did want to taste him, too. The thought of him had me tingling and yearning for his touch. Knowing we shouldn’t only made the craving worse.
Our gazes locked, and I rose on tiptoe as his head dipped. We might have kissed if something hadn’t caught my attention.
A tingle hit. A premonition of danger that I knew better than to ignore. I glanced past him through the window in time to see the oxen-cart driver loose an arrow.
He should have been too far. Explain that to the missile coming straight for the tower. I grabbed Konstantin by the tunic and shoved him to the side.
He misunderstood, thinking I was acting out of passion. He dragged me back into his embrace, putting me square in the window. I couldn’t escape the puncture of the missile.
CHAPTERTWENTY
The arrow hit,and my whole body jolted. My entire upper shoulder throbbed in sudden pain. The way Konstantin bellowed you’d think it had happened to him.
“Get down!” I snapped. “Before they shoot again.”
“Again? Oh no,” he growled, and his expression turned coldly intense. “It’s my turn to toss something sharp.”
This time I saw it. He held out his hand, and it had nothing in it. A blink and now he grasped a spear, the same one I’d seen hanging on the wall in his room. He stood in front of the window, a big bold target who didn’t care, full of rage at being attacked.
His arm drew back and thrust rapidly forward with incredible power—and something else. I felt a tingle that parted my lips and quivered my senses, much like the sword had that day in the curio shop.
No matter how good the throw, he shouldn’t have been able to hit the bowman. Then again, that arrow shouldn’t have reached me.
Toss accomplished, Konstantin dropped from the window by my side. I sat slumped, trying to control the radiating waves of pain. Not my first injury, but that didn’t lessen the agony.
“Slow breaths,” he advised.
“I am,” I huffed because I’d begun to pant without realizing it. Then again, I had reason given the blood drenching my back. My shoulder throbbed.
My own fault. It never occurred to me someone could target us through those windows. How was it even possible? I’d been around weapons my whole life. I knew how far an arrow could travel. A spear could go even less distance.
“We need to get the arrow out.” Konstantin only lightly touched the shaft. I still winced.
“You don’t say. Do it quick.” I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. At least I no longer panted. Everything about me had slowed. Why did I feel so lethargic? It was just a hole. I’d been injured worse before.
As the realization hit me, I spat it out, my tongue sluggish. “Poison.”
The angry noise Konstantin made would have made any barbarian proud. “This is going to hurt.” He braced hand on my shoulder; the other held the arrow.
I expected him to yank. Instead, the shaft began to hum. I sucked in a breath as the head emerged from my flesh with a wet, sucking sound. But Konstantin wasn’t done. His fingers pressed against the wound, drawing a moan. Then his mouth was there, sucking at it and spitting. The only option to draw out poison when lacking an antidote.